Harry Potter and the Absence of Sense
by The HalfTruth Accumulation As
Summary: In which no one is quite sure where their sexual preferences lie, time travel is only possible with hideous retro special effects, and Ron mysteriously develops tits. A thrilling tale of romance, lust, insanity, and sparkly false eyelashes.
1. Chapter 1

**Harry Potter and the curious case of his sexual preferences**

**Disclaimer : **Please don't sue us we only own this plot. Or lack thereof.

**Summary: **Harry Potter does NOT love Draco Malfoy. Yes he does. No he doesn't. Yes he does! And why does Ron have tits? These mysteries and many others are answered in this thrilling tale of romance and insanity.

*******

Chapter One

**Harry Potter and What We REALLY Did During Lectures**

*******

It was a warm summer's day in mid July and Harry Potter was nowhere to be seen. His friends Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger were puzzled as to his whereabouts.

"Maybe he's been kidnapped by You-Know-Who?!" squealed Ron fretfully.

Hermione scratched her left armpit thoughtfully. "I don't know about that," she said.

"What else would keep him inside on a warm summers day?!" asked Ron, perplexed.

Hermione glanced at the castle, her purple eyes reflecting the tempest within. Where exactly _was_ he?

And so, as our tale commences, we move across the still waters of the lake, through the chilling forbidden forest and up gently sloping hills. We saunter along the beaten path and rush hurriedly by Hagrid in the loo, and so come to find that high up in the sixth year boys dormitories, Harry Potter was experiencing a painful moral dilemma.

He was deep in thought, contemplating the white substance poking out of his toes. He had just spent a wild, uninhibited four hours with that voracious little vixen and the part-time love of his life - Pansy Parkinson, making her go into throes of wanton passion. Yet he felt that somehow, somewhere, a vital multiplication point was missing in the mathematical equation that was life. All the while Pansy was shrieking in abandon the only things running through his head were pathetic daddy issues (which he'd never had before) and the unquenchable desire for copious amounts of coffee.

Harry's slightly myopic eyes squinted in frustration. What was _wrong_ with him?! He felt that this needed serious contemplation and a vast amount of decaf coffee. Again he paused to observe the white stuff between his toes. He concluded it was merely an advanced case of athlete's foot and bent down to pull on his socks. He was sure Pansy would never know his fungussy secret . Naturally during the course of their wild acts of love the ghastly things would have to come off; indeed even an adolescent mess such as Pansy Parkinson , a regular cocktail of raging hormones, knew that there was nothing more repugnant than a naked man in socks.

Harry made his way to over to the full length mirrors mounted on the wall and gazed at his reflection. He liked what he saw, but began to feel insecure about his worth as a man. He spun around and admired the tightness of his buns, shining in the bright sunlight, his muscles, bulging beneath his robes - yet not too bulky, they were lean - his dark silky hair hanging into his eyes… and his eyes – swirling tempests of green, swimming with unshed tears...

Yup.

That was it. The girls always fell for the pools of tears swimming in his dark, deep eyes. He grinned at himself. I mean, if you couldn't be an inexplicable chick magnet like Voldermort was, with his rock-hard, vampire abs and snake eyes – leave aside the fact that Voldy was a destructive psychopath with the mentality of a rampaging rhino - Harry felt it was better to be the dark, troubled, orphaned hero secretly nurturing a foreboding past. Harry gave one last appreciative look at himself and sauntered out of the dorm. He carelessly waved at some first years as he passed the common room. They appropriately rewarded him with awe inspired looks that said –

"Come hither oh dark one. We are willing to ravage you shamelessly right on this coffee table."

He was just in the process of giving the Fat Lady a rakish wink, when he spotted… _him!_

* * * * * *

Harry panicked and jumped into a convenient cupboard to hide. After that last – albeit fantastic – encounter beneath the grills of the Hogwarts kitchens, Dobby had begun to stalk him… even more vigorously than usual. Breathing hard, he tried to get his eyes used to the sudden darkness.

While still trying to control the erratic beating of his heart Harry heard a rustle behind him.

"_AAAaaaaaaarrghhhhh!!"_

Emitting the most unmanly squeal – equivalent to that of a girl with her thong twisted the wrong way – Harry jumped, thus managing to knock his head – rather hard – on one of Filch's brooms. Rubbing his head with one hand he looked around, trying to put a face to the voice giving life to all manner of curses. (Some which Harry had never even heard before!). Muttering under his breath about Filch's brooms and exactly where he could stick them Harry focused on the opposite wall.

Ha gasped in horror as his eyes fell on sleek white blond hair and smooth pristine skin, stretching taut over aristocratically arrogant cheek bones. Slate grey eyes widened in comic surprise as the other too, recognized exactly who he was facing;

"_You!"_

Harry eyed him bemusedly.

"This is _my_ cupboard, get out!" ejaculated Draco.

At which point Harry bristled with indignation. What right did that albino worm have, to order him out of school property! If it weren't for the fact that Dobby would have heard the noise Harry felt sure he would have punched the insufferable git. Instead, he stood there, challenging Draco's gaze. Both were staring at each other with dilated pupils. Breath was coming out in ragged spasms.

It was then that Harry noticed that Draco was wearing an alarmingly tight, figure-hugging, black T-shirt, emphasizing his musculature. He opened his mouth to make some scathing comment but instead was very confused when no sound came out. He then realised that he was staring, so he hurriedly shut his mouth jerked his head the other way, blushing like a virgin.

Suddenly, a strange sound floated from the cracks between the flagstones below our heroes. Indeed, it was as Harry feared; the vicious Wangbooze Karmackle – more commonly known as the Carpet Monster – was gnashing its' slimy green teeth, decked liberally with lint.

"My _God_, Potter!" exclaimed Malfoy. "Is that what I think it is?"

Harry hopped nervously from foot to foot, wringing his hands. Malfoy watched this and curled his lips, sneering mockingly at Harry's frenzied state. From amid the panicked muddle that resided within the mind of the boy who lived, something registered the fact that Malfoy's lips were curled very much in the same manner as that of a rose petal, revealing rows of pearlescent teeth, gleaming from the light of their wands (which they had lit). Harry felt a strange lurch in the pit of his stomach, and confusedly bought up his free hand to meet it. Just then, an odd smell assaulted their nostrils…

"Malfoy…?"

Harry looked at his adversary questioningly, his thick, shapely eyebrows quirking in amusement.

"What?_ Me?_ No!"

Malfoy looked horrified at the thought, his perfectly shaped mouth hanging open in a familiar pose of disgust.

"How could you even _think_ that?! It smells like something _died _in here." Malfoy's aquiline nose wrinkled in disdain.

Harry, still unsure, continued to shift around the cramped space. It seemed like they had dislodged something when jumping around like tu-tu-ed ballerinas trying to avoid that foul carpet. Suddenly, Harry's foot came into contact with something extremely squishy and slippery. He tool one look at the gruesome mess on the ground and collapsed into Malfoy's arms, burying his head in Malfoy's neck. Harry barely had time to register how good Malfoy smelt - (like peppermint and freshly brewed coffee) before Malfoy's hand tightened around his waist.

Malfoy started as an unimaginable sight assaulted his eyes. It didn't even register that he had his arms around the waist of his most hated nemesis. He just couldn't stop staring at the spectacle that was Sirius Black's mangled and decaying head, rotting at the bottom of a dust ridden broom cupboard.

* * * * * *

Time stood still as Harry too stared, horrified and transfixed, into the empty eyes of his once-Godfather, Sirius Black. The air was still and accusing. The pungent odor emanating from the severed head was sharp and assaulted Harry's senses entirely, leaving no room for intelligent thought. The void in his mind grew wide as the walls of the broom cupboard seemed to close in. memories flashed like photographs. Panic flooded his heart, hot and sickening. Suddenly he couldn't breathe. Bile rose in his throat. He then collapsed to his knees and promptly vomited.

Draco Malfoy, for the first time in his life, had nothing to say. He watched Harry convulsing on the floor. As his eyes fell on the rotting pile of flesh, he felt a wave of nausea wash over him. The little color that remained in Draco's cheeks following his indignation at finding himself locked in a broom cupboard with Harry Potter drained away, leaving his true feelings of disgust and vulnerability unmasked.

"P-Potter! Potter! Get up! Get up – _Now!_"

Harry couldn't tear his eyes away memories, painful memories – Sirius at the Shrieking Shack, Sirius at Grimmauld Place, Sirius falling through the veil…

"POTTER!"

Receiving no response, Draco drew back his hand and slapped Harry across the face.

Harry sputtered and looked up at Malfoy with uncomprehending eyes. Part of his brain registered fury at the stinging blow that had undoubtedly left a mark on his cheek – that part of his brain also promised the complete and utter annihilation of Malfoy's perfect, smirking face. The other half of his brain was still stuck in limbo. Flashing memories continued to burn through his mind.

"Come _on_ Potter, Get up! We need to get out of here."

Malfoy contemplated kicking Harry in the ribs, but decided to be the bigger man. Instead he concentrated on trying to find a way out of this hell hole. He tried everything. – 'Alohamora', 'Incendio', 'Reducto', but nothing worked, not even beating his fists against the walls. Finally despairing of finding a way out, he started cursing the ill timed malevolence of stalking house elves when Harry spoke up. His voice sounded thick and muffled, as if he were in the process of eating a pair of woolly tights.

"He isn't the only one."

"What?"

Malfoy bent down and Harry used this opportunity to grab the front of Malfoy's robes and pull himself up.

"There's more, lots more. It looks like a corridor or something."

His voice still sounded shaky but Malfoy was thankful of the fact that Harry seemed to have gained control of his anatomy in the very least.

"Yeah, well. Forward seems the only way to go… we seemed to be locked in here and none of the spells work."

Malfoy gave another futile kick at the door. The only result being that now his foot was throbbing as well. Harry, seemingly deaf to Malfoy's wails of anguish, moved towards the corridor and disappeared from view.

"OI! Do you have a death wish?!"

Malfoy heard a muffled cry from the other side. Muttering an expletive about boys with superman complexes, he stepped through the darkness and felt a wave of nausea hit him again. The smell was getting worse.

Draco raised his wand, and, resisting the urge to retch, followed Harry's fast disappearing shadow into the darkness beyond.

"Potter?!"

Harry continued to ignore him. Draco seethed. Although it seemed to him that there was no cause for alarm and Harry was merely being Pig-headed as usual, he also understood the fragile state of his sworn nemesis's mind. Sighing heavily and exasperatedly, the youngest Malfoy said nothing more.

The pair walked in silence for a little over an hour. And Draco had long since begun to miss the simple pleasures of life – namely his dinner and his bed. He suddenly groaned, snaked down to the floor, clutched his stomach and dreamt wistfully of cream buns.

"_Potter," _he said again.

Harry stopped moving and turned around to face him, annoyed.

"Stop whining. If we are going to get out of this place, it means we need to _move_."

"We've been walking for _hours!_"

"Well do you _want _to be here any longer than you have to?"

"No, I –"

"Well then stop griping. We'll make faster time if you'd just shut up!"

Draco's face contorted into a snarl.

"Watch it Potter," he threatened. "When my father hears about this –"

"That's right," sneered Harry. "Run to Daddy! Maybe he'll drop in with some Death Eater friends –"

"Don't you talk about my father like that!!"

"- And maybe he'll bring a nice fuzzy sweater to keep Drakie-Poo warm –"

"Shut - UP!!"

"– but guess WHAT, Malfoy? Daddy can't help you here! You're going to eventually suffocate and die and turn into a rotting corpse not unlike the ones back in the cupboard –"

"We ARE in the cupboard –!"

"- and Daddy will find your body and weep! But that Sod'll deserve it; what goes around comes around! He'll realize that no matter how many babies he tortured that power doesn't make you invincible – "

"My father is worth more than –"

"Oh yeah, I BET."

At this point Harry tapped his chin in mock thoughtfulness before speaking again.

"You know what, Malfoy?" He said. "I'll bet you anything that your father's leaping for joy that you've gone; I'll bet he doesn't give a shit about you and is happy you're finally out the picture once and for all –"

"SHUT UP!!!!"

Draco lunged at Harry, fists flailing blindly. Rage surged through his body and he kicked and punched and screamed. The two boys wrestled clumsily on the floor until a final shove sent both Draco and Harry hurtling into the hidden crevice in the ground; their mingled screams resounding throughout the stone corridor like a third person.


	2. Chapter 2

**Harry Potter and the curious case of his sexual preferences**

**Disclaimer : **Please don't sue us we only own this plot. Or lack thereof.

**Summary: **Harry Potter does NOT love Draco Malfoy. Yes he does. No he doesn't. Yes he does! And why does Ron have tits? These mysteries and many others are answered in this thrilling tale of romance and insanity.

*******

Chapter Two

**Harry Potter and Thank God for Yorik's Homophobic Tendencies**

*******

Malfoy had just enough time to ponder as to how an innocent scuffle among enemies could warrant such an alarming amount of indecent touching when Potter landed on top of him with an undignified – _"Oomph!"_

Indignation boiled up inside Malfoy like molten lava. One thing he despised was people touching him without his express permission.

"Malfoy, listen." Harry's voice grated into his ear and it tickled – not unpleasantly. Malfoy was so horrified by this sensation that he completely forgot what was going on for a moment. Harry threw a concentrated stare at Malfoy and punched him the shoulder with just a little bit of spite.

Suddenly he felt something creeping up his arm and torso. Giving a yell he attempted to wrangle himself free, but with a sudden jolt of horror realized that doing so was impossible. He couldn't even reach his wand! He found himself feverishly wishing for Hermione's famous blue bell flames.

"OMG, its Devil's Snare! Get off me you vile plants! Get your filthy tentacles off me!! Malfoy was flailing around helplessly. "My hair is going to be absolutely _ruined_ by your slime!"

Harry rolled his eyes exasperatedly. Trust Malfoy to worry about blemishes to his person even when they were clearly within an inch of being strangled to death.

"Start a fire Malfoy." Harry ground out. "It'll stop them from attacking."

"What? Oh, right. I knew that."

With a flick of his wand he lazily conjured up the same blue bell flames Hermione had used. At once the vicious tendrils receded and lay as innocent as a potted fern.

Harry gingerly felt about for bones that might have bruised or worse. Feeling satisfied that the damage wasn't fatal, he proceeded to survey their surroundings. Harry's eyes swept across the darkened coven they had fallen into and came to rest upon something glinting at the end of what looked like a door. Ignoring Malfoy completely, Harry went forward and pushed at the door. What met his gaze was a pair of horrifyingly familiar beetle-black eyes and a hooked nose.

* * * * * * *

Severus Snape was a in a foul mood.

This was not uncommon - indeed the only time Snape was ever truly happy was when he was reminiscing about Lilly Evans or his Great-Aunt Brunnhilda's antique teapot collection. He'd been on his way to the lavatory to relieve the tension in his rather full bladder following a drinking binge with Prof. Flitwick (a closet alcoholic) a week earlier when he had taken a wrong turn and somehow ended up in the sewers; as a result he was now nursing one heck of a hangover. This did nothing to alleviate the prevailing bad mood, and Snape was sure that somehow, this was all Happy Potter's fault. It was therefore understandable that when he found himself face-to-face with the bespectacled boy-who-lived, he should scream obscenities and try to hex the lad into oblivion.

Unfortunately, one of his hexes ricocheted off the walls and hit the man square in the face. He collapsed.

Harry and Draco stared, half afraid – but mostly perplexed – at their excreta – bespattered potions professor.

"Wow." Said Harry. "I wonder what he's doing here…"

"Is he _supposed_ to be twitching like that?" asked Draco, eyeing the third new, greasy addition to their party uneasily.

Harry shrugged.

Just then, an eerie song began to play.

"I know that voice!" squealed Malfoy with a distinct air of a person who derived immense pleasure in knowing all answers to all questions in the known the universe. "That's Moaning Myrtle! I'd recognize that voice anywhere."

Complete and utter disbelief washed over Harry as he was left to ponder the possibilities of what exactly Malfoy had been doing to achieve such an in depth knowledge of Myrtle's singing voice. Deciding that some things were decidedly better off left unquestioned, he focused instead on attracting the ghost's attention; if anyone knew the way out it was Moaning Myrtle.

"Malfoy, you stupid git. Stop bouncing like a Ferret and help me get Myrtle's attention."

Harry had just begun to shout at the top of his lungs when he heard a sound that, rest assured, would never be erased from his mind for as long as he lived.

Malfoy was singing. – Bee Gees no less!

While trying to wrap his head around this new information he noticed that Myrtle's voice was getting clearer. Relief was short lived, as, with another shock he realized that Malfoy and Myrtle were singing... _A duet!!!!!_

Harry stood his ground and willed himself not to pass out as the last strains of the song - 'Immortality' faded, leaving Myrtle floating to a stop in front of Harry. She smiled a beatific smile at Malfoy.

"Oh, hello boys. Rather odd place to be, this, isn't it? _Tee hee._ What can I do for you?"

She was batting her eyelashes rather coquettishly at Harry. Unfortunately Malfoy chose this very moment to pay attention and he burst into a howl of laughter.

"Oh, Goodness, Potter!" he whispered maliciously, "I think Myrtle fancies you! I must say, she is rather a better-suited catch than that vixen Chang you've been hankering after for years now."

Malfoy was still smirking when Harry politely told him to shut up and shove his wand up where the sun don't shine. Malfoy made a rude gesture. Resignedly Harry turned his attention towards the floating specter in front of him. He asked in his most gentlemanly voice if she could please show them the way out of this hole as they seemed to be a little lost, as it were.

"Lost?" she repeated questioningly.

"Yes, lost. You see, we were in the broom cupboard –"

"Oh _my!_"

Harry stamped his foot in frustration.

"It's not _like_ that!" he yelled.

He was becoming increasingly aggravated as scenes of Malfoy winking cheekily and doing a sneering rose - petal lippy thing in slo-mo flashed like neon street signs unbidden in his mind.

"Uh huh," said Myrtle disbelievingly.

"It's not like that!!-"

"ANYWAY," interrupted Malfoy. "It's as Potty explained, we are absolutely and hopelessly lost."

"Lost. Hmmmm…."

"As lost as an old sock."

"I see."

"As lost as his sanity."

Malfoy glared.

"Oh my," said Myrtle again. "Indeed, you are lost."

"That's what I said. As lost as a –"

"OKAY! I get it already!"

She paused to observe the various different species of mould growing on the damp stone walls when she suddenly noticed Snape lying unconscious (but still twitching) on the ground.

"What's _he_ doing here?" she asked.

Harry shrugged.

"He looks rather unwell doesn't he?" (Snape was beginning to foam at the mouth).

"What should we do with him?" asked Malfoy, lifting his robes away from the expanding lake of spittle around their Professor's head.

"We should revive him."

"Are you mad?!"

"Would _you _like to carry him all the way back?"

"Frankly, I'd like to kill you, and then him, and make it look like an accident."

"Look!" exclaimed Myrtle. "He's coming around!"

"Fan-bloody-tastic," said Malfoy sardonically.

Snape sat up and blinked bemusedly.

"Wha-? WhuhhA… where am I? What am I doing here?"

"Professor Snape?" asked Harry anxiously.

"By the curly blond hairs on my toes!!!" exclaimed Malfoy, clamping his nose shut. "The man smells like a cesspit!!"

"Whaa… what am I doing here?"

"I don't know, Professor."

"You..? You… you..? _YOU!!!!_"

Harry and Draco involuntarily jumped about six feet backwards.

"$^&*%^%!!??!!" screamed Snape.

"Help! Help! He's gone mad!"

"$f%sf&/*(*)!?^!!"

"Myrtle! _Do_ something!! He's cursing in comic code!"

At this point, Snape, who was running around like a loon, slipped in his puddle of spit and landed in an untidy heap of greasy hair and badly laundered robes on the floor.

"GOD, man! _Must_ you act like a hysterical teenage girl?!"

Snape looked up in surprise as if noticing the pair for the first time.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Well..." began Harry, "we were in this broom cupboard –"

"Oh _my_."

"It's _not. Like. That!!"_

"Uh huh." Said Snape disbelievingly.

"It's not-"

"Well, what did you expect me to think?" he snapped. "Here you are, miles away from Hogwarts –"

"You _do_ exaggerate –"

"- all sweaty and suspicious looking –"

Myrtle looked up at the ceiling and sighed. "I wish I had a cream bun," she said.

"-children these days! What is one to think?! In my day –"

"- Only I should like it to be filled with custard –"

" – two sex crazed teenage boys wandering alone in dark, enclosed corridors together –"

"Creepy, isn't it?"

"- An absolute DISGRACE to the good name of the school –"

Harry sighed, and reaching into his pocket, proceeded to rummage around in its depths.

"Oh God Potter! Not in front of an audience! You absolutely deprived boy. Do you have no shame at all?!"

Snape looked like he was about to start running in circles again.

Harry, looking faintly bemused and not a little embarrassed (he couldn't believe Snape just said that – and in front of Malfoy too!) – pulled out the wand which he had stashed there and calmly faced the others.

"Right. Listen. This is what we do. First off, Professor, please stop running round like a rabid bowtruckle. You're making me dizzy. And second, Myrtle, I don't care what you think we were doing – (Harry realized he was blushing like a virgin again) but we are honestly lost and would like your help to get out of here. And thirdly, Malfoy…"

Here, Harry stopped. He was going to say something along the lines of – 'take off that stupid t-shirt you're wearing, it's completely inappropriate and against the school rules of uniform' – but realized how wrong it would sound in so many different ways. Instead, he settled for sarcasm.

"Stop whining like a girl and try acting your age for change."

No body quite knew what happened after that, because suddenly, Myrtle sensed a slight breeze in the air and the next thing she knew there were three very tangled bodies rolling on the floor trying their best to hex each other into oblivion. It seemed that Prof Snape and Malfoy had joined forces and were proceeding to squish Harry – like yesterday's pancakes no doubt. Myrtle watched bemusedly as the three panting males continued to roll around like it was the carnival mud wrestling tournament, each man sweating profusely but neither ready to give up.

By the time Myrtle decided enough blood had been shed and ordered them to a stop, all three were sporting enough cuts and bruises to make Madam Pomfrey happy for the rest of the term.

"Right, boys…" She blanched slightly at having to call Prof Snape a "boy" but went on nonetheless. "There's only one way to get out that I know of."

She was thrilled to see the tension ease from Malfoy's body like water on silk and still _more_ thrilled to see the small smile playing on the corner of those wine-red lips. Oh, what things she would like to do to those lips!

Myrtle was rudely awaked from her day dreaming by Harry's disgruntled voice muttering, "yes we grasped you so far, you can continue with instructions oh-great-empress-of-the-crapper sometime this century, if you don't mind. See unlike you we haven't got all eternity to spend contemplating the perfect physical anatomy that happens to be Malfoy."

Myrtle visibly turned an opalescent white that did nothing to improve her already blemished complexion. She now resembled someone that had cat-sick dumped all over her.

"Yes well, all you do is walk to the end of this tunnel and go through the black veil on to the other side," she snapped. It was clear that Myrtle was quite visibly ticked off. But everyone ignored that. The trio's moods and expressions brightened considerably until…

"…of course, that would only work if you disliked the way your soul is currently attached to your body."

Malfoy, who was until then smirking at Potter's admission about him having a perfect physique, (he did have a rather toned body, if he did say so himself) frowned in confusion.

"What do you mean girl, stop blathering about in riddles and spit it out!"

If Myrtle was feeling waspish, it was nothing compared to what Snape was feeling. Now that he was certain that all this _was_ indeed Potter's fault, he couldn't wait to get back to the Castle. He was going to dock off around 150 points from Gryffindor and wanted to celebrate the sweetness of vengeance in the peace and solitude of his own precious room.

"I mean you'd be dead."

"Ah." Said Harry, looking decidedly morose.

He sat back on his haunches and began picking at the fungus growing between the cracks in the flagstones.

"Well, I suppose we're doomed then."

Malfoy began to scream.

"He's going mad," Myrtle informed them matter-of-factly. Her eyes became wistful and glazed over. "Maybe he'll die right now; maybe then we can be together… forever!!!"

(Malfoy's screams grew louder.)

Snape couldn't stand it anymore.

"_QUIET!!!!" _

The screaming continued. Myrtle was cashing in on this opportunity to bond with Malfoy by trying to harmonize with his voice, amplified tenfold by fear. The result was very much like an orchestra made up entirely of weasles dismembering each other with high-pitched musical saws.

After enduring three more excruciating minutes of this, Harry's fist – seemingly with a mind of its own – connected with Malfoy's face. This escalated into about full-blown brawl. Deciding that there was too much testosterone cooped up in such an enclosed space as an enchanted broom cupboard for her to cope with, Moaning Myrtle sniffed gloomily and drifted through the wall.

"Wait, Myrtle -!"

"Shit," said Malfoy. "_Shitshitshitshitshitshit-"_

"If you two have _quite_ finished," snapped an irate Snape, "we can concentrate on getting out of here."

"But Myrtle's gone!" wailed Harry.

"I KNOW that, Nimrod."

"So?!!"

"So, my point is this – did neither of you notice my sudden, dashing and overall unexpected appearance into this corridor?"

"How could we miss it? You were practically epileptic."

"Then you will notice how I came in through that door over there –"

"- Not to mention you stank like shi-"

"Professor, you cannot be serious."

Snape turned to face Harry, his excreta-bespattered features grim.

"Aye. That I am."

"What? What??! What's going on?!"

"Malfoy," said Harry, "he means to take us –"

"Take us?!! Take us where? Away?! Huzzah -!"

"Stop celebrating, you Ninny! He's going to drag our sorry butts through the Sewers!"

At this Malfoy ceased to dance the Macarena and looked visibly ill.

"You must be joking."

"I'm not," said Snape dryly. "Now follow me, before the Carpet Monster gets here and devours us all."

"Carpet Monster!!?"

"Move along Malfoy, I'd like to experience the pleasures of a woman again, someday."

"Urgh!" said Malfoy. "This can hardly be hygienic."

"Well, we both know Snape's about as hygienic as a toilet seat."

They both shared a grimace before preparing to follow their odorous Potions master into the darkness beyond.

Just then, Malfoy screeched to a halt. "WAIT, how do we know he's not lying?! How do we know he wont take us into a dark, damp corridor and perform horrific rituals on our pure, beautiful physiques?!"

Harry was suddenly overcome with disturbing images of their mangled bodies strewn across the slimy floor and Snape towering over them, looking positively perverse.

Malfoy started screaming again and this time Harry joined too.

"I have suddenly developed an intense dislike for dark, damp corridors," sighed Snape, with the air of a one that has suffered much. He then turned to face the cacophonic pair before him. "We _are_ in a dark damp corridor you Nitwits! If I'd wanted to perform unmentionable rituals on you, I had all the time in the world to do it!"

Harry and Malfoy completely ignored him and continued to scream.

Everyone was so engrossed with shouting each other down that nobody noticed Ron's head pop up out of an apparently blank wall. Malfoy was the first to notice Ron's freckled face grinning like a hyena at the spectacle before him, and was so surprised that he waved his wand in the general direction of the youngest Weasley son, making it emit a loud _**bang!**_ This effectively made the other two shut up and stare in astonishment.

"So… Myrtle wasn't lying after all. She said she came up on you guys "taking a walk" in a broom cupboard." Ron wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, his grin growing wider.

"It _WASN'T_. _LIKE. THAT!!!_" yelled Snape, stamping his feet on the ground like a man beyond frustration.

"Yeah… I bet."

"That's it. 50 trillion points from Gryffindor, Weasley!" raged Snape, spit flying from his mouth. Honestly, and the Headmaster actually expected these hooligans to be taught something without subjecting them to corporeal punishment?! Snape was going to have a word with Dumbledore about this.

Ron's grin slid off his face faster than Stink-Sap.

"Yeah well, if I hadn't come into the girl's bathroom Myrtle would never have been able to tell me you guys were in here, and all of you could be stuck inside these smelly sewers with only Myrtle for company, forever."

Harry noticed Malfoy's face light up with glee and an almost beatific smile appeared on those rosy lips.

"What," asked Malfoy, "were you doing in the _girl's bathroom,_ Weasel?"

Malfoy felt like Christmas had come early. Harry noted with a sinking feeling that Ron's face had gone a rather unattractive, splotchy red.

Ron shifted guiltily from one foot to another. What in the world _was_ he doing in the girl's bathroom -? Wondered Harry.

The party waited in breathless anticipation for Ron to reply.

"Uhh…. Umm… Well, the boy's one is… uh.. Locked. That's right, locked!"

"A likely story," said Snape.

********

Meanwhile, far above the chaos that reigned in the girl's bathroom, the Headmaster paced his study in anxious contemplation. It was plain that he was in a disturbed state of mind. The cause for this disturbance was currently in _her_ room preening. There was a Shamrock twirling in one hand and the fingers of the other were faintly tracing a vague pattern over her lips. Minerva McGonagall was not usually given to flighty spates of imagination, but that particular encounter had left her bemused and blushing.

Dumbledore was still pacing his study, clearly distraught. He had sullied the memory of his beloved Grindlewald.

"Forgive me my beloved," whispered the wizened Guru. "I never meant for it to go that far, but it's for the Greater Good of the Wizarding world. I have never given up on the dream you and I built together."

Dumbledore paced the worn floor in circles, making Fawkes, who was watching him, very dizzy indeed. McGonagall had come too close to finding out about the Headmaster's terrible secret. And that would not do. No one must find out about the terrible secret hidden within the walls of Hogwarts. Dumbledore closed his eyes. He did only what had to be done - there was no point in regretting it now.

"Random portrait 1!" he suddenly turned to address the abovementioned illustration.

The abovementioned illustration, a stunning oil painting depicting Wilberforce the Weird, 3rd Headmaster of Hogwarts, wearing a violently pink tutu over a pair of luminous orange long-johns, raised its' wrinkled hands in quick salute.

"Sir!"

Dumbledore, who had paused for a moment in arcane contemplation by his desk, looked up sharply, his eyes grim.

"Bring me Harry Potter!"

* * * * * *

Back in the sewers/girl's toilet, chaos reigned.

"Let me get this straight," said Malfoy, still grinning like a Cheshire Cat, "You're telling me that within the course of the few hours that we went missing, you realized that the cosmos had played a cruel joke by forcing you to spend your life as a male, performed a seriously complicated bit of magic – _without_ screwing it up – and transmorgified yourself into a _woman?!!"_

Ron coughed embarrassedly.

"Err… well, I _was_ drunk –"

Just then Random portrait 1 dashed into the girl's toilet.

"I say, Lassie," he said, "Have ye seen Hairy Pootah?"

"You mean Harry Potter," said Ron.

"Whateverstuff."

"I'm here! In the sewers!" called Harry.

"Aah, lad! Bum-blee-doris wants you in his office!"

"You mean Dumbledore."

"Whateverstuff."

"But how do I get out of here?" asked Harry.

"Haven't you ever watched Wizard of the Oz?"

"No."

The portrait sighed irritably. "Click your heels and say: 'there's no place like the Headmaster's Office! Here," he said, tossing Harry a pair of ruby-red slippers, "wear these."

"Are they magic? Will they help?"

"Oh no, lad. I just enjoy watching pubescent boys cross dress."

Ron exploded. "This is Bullshit!!"

"Look here, girlie –"

"I'm a guy!"

"Oh yeah?! Why'd you have tits then?!"

Ron shielded his chest protectively.

"You _pervert -!!"_

Harry decided to make a speedy getaway.

* * * * * * *

"Aah, Harry," smiled Dumbledore. "Come this way. I have something to show you."

"Your Penseive?"

"Yes Harry, look deeply."

After a few moments, Harry removed his face from the stone basin.

"Nothing's happening, Professor."

"That's because you are sloshing around in my personal bidet!!"

"_YEEEEUUCK!"_

"That's just gross Potter," commented Malfoy, coolly popping into the Headmaster's office.

"Ahh, Mr. Malfoy. To what do we owe this pleasure?"

The Headmaster's eyes gleamed unnaturally bright as he noted Malfoy's pale, marble-like complexion and his shining flaxen tresses. "Oh, he is so like my beloved," he sighed rapturously.

"What? What did you say?!"

Harry doubled over with uncontrollable laughter at the scandalized look on Malfoy's face.

"Nothing Mr. Malfoy, I was just commenting on your inherent grace. Very well Potter, here we are. Go on and take a look."

"I want to look too. Whatever Potter gets I deserve better."

Malfoy did the pouty-lippy-thing again and the Headmaster seemed mesmerized.

"Very well, if you insist, but Potter has to go first."

Potter plunged his face into the cold substance and at once felt himself float.

There was a sudden commotion outside the Headmaster's door and Severus Snape burst in, spittle flying all around and looking as deranged as he did in the sewers.

"Students are performing illicit magic all over school and morphing into girls!!" he raged.

The Headmaster merely looked at Snape, and with a flick of his wand sent Malfoy along with a rather rabid Snape careening head first into the Penseive.

As they disappeared from view, Dumbledore chuckled morbidly.

"I see that our plan will succeed at last my love. Soon we shall be together again, for all eternity!!"


	3. Chapter 3

Harry Potter and the curious case of his sexual preferences

Disclaimer : **Please don't sue us we only own this plot. Or lack thereof. **

**Summary: **Harry Potter does NOT love Draco Malfoy. Yes he does. No he doesn't. Yes he does! And why does Ron have tits? These mysteries and many others are answered in this thrilling tale of romance and insanity.

*******

Chapter Three

**Harry Potter and Dumbledore's Disturbingly Twinkly Eyes**

*******

Swirling through a Technicolor vortex of time and space, Harry and Co. began to feel slightly queasy. They were, after all, rather unaccustomed to such a strange and psychedelic mode of travel. Draco's right eye began to twitch uncomfortably.

"Why… is… everything… so… _bright_… and… _shiny?!!"_

"Well, we _are_ travelling to the 70s," said Harry.

"How do you know?!" demanded the queasy blonde one.

"That 70s Show, duh!! Still," he added, "Prof D's Penseive's never done this before! Wonder where we're going."

"I don't care _where_ we go, I just want everything to STOP before I upchuck my last meal!"

"Very attractive, Malfoy."

"I hate you too."

Just then, the swirling vortex shuddered to a halt.

"Aah, this way boys," said Dumbledore, appearing suddenly and mysteriously from behind a Technicolor star.

He led the group to a big purple door with orange polka dots and turned to face them.

"Are you prepared?" he asked.

"Prepared? What for?"

"IT."

"It??"

"_IT."_

"You mean -?"

"Uh huh."

"GASP! _NO!"_

"Yes."

"IT?!!"

"IT."

"You mean… _IT!?"_

"I mean _IT."_

Harry screamed like a hypochondriac with a hangnail.

"We are prepared," answered Snape.

"Very well. You may enter."

Dumbledore and Snape then stepped across the threshold and vanished in an explosion of multi-colored bubbles.

Just as Harry attempted to follow suit, Malfoy tugged on his sleeve.

"Incidentally, what DID he mean?"

Harry shrugged. "I dunno."

Having stared at each other blankly for a few moments, the pair pushed open the door and disappeared....where they promptly fell into ANOTHER Technicolor vortex.

"_AAAAAAIIIIIE!!!!"_ Screamed Draco, as he soared past all the sparkly things.

"Professor Dumbledore!" called Harry desperately.

"AAAIIIEE!! ALL THIS FREAKIN" CREEPY SWIRLY SHINY HIPPY SHIT!! PUT AN END TO IT!!"

"Professor Dumbledore!" called Harry again, more incensed this time because both the violently bright colors and Draco's screaming were starting to make his head hurt.

"_AAAAIIIEEEEE -!!"_

"I'm here, boys! Just clap your knees and whistle Dixie and the equilibrial balance of time will be restored!!"

Twelve exhausting minutes later, Harry found himself standing (more like reeling – he was dizzy from all the spinning) in front of yet another door. Only this one was fluorescent pink with green stripes. Dumbledore smiled kindly at the bewildered boy who lived (A little TOO kindly if you know what I mean) and extended his arm.

"After you, Harry…"

Harry walked in and stared in unmitigated horror! He stared and stared until a cool, slim hand closed over his petrified pupils and pulled him back firmly.

"Are you crazy you old bat?! You know how sensitive Harry is!"

Harry was dimly aware that Malfoy was ready to spit nails. His mind was still reeling too much to make much of a protest against Malfoy's blatant mollycoddling. All he could manage was…

"Dumbledore... Grindlewald...Together... touching…_Gahk!"_

He closed his eyes and slumped against Malfoy who unthinkingly put a soothing hand up to Harry's forehead.

Snape was looking at the boys like they had grown three heads, while Dumbledore, with a slight frown on his already lined and wrinkled brow peeked into the room.

"Oh dear, oh dear." Shaking his head and clucking like a mother hen Dumbledore shut the door to his memory with a decided click. "We seemed to have walked in through the wrong door."

The wizened guru chuckled rather fondly at the two boys, the 'twinkle' back in his eyes.

"Let me just perform a memory charm and all will be right in the world again, my dears."

Comprehension dawned on Snape at this juncture and his eyes widened comically. Howling like Lupin at full moon, Snape began running up and down like the deranged and unwashed loon he generally was. It would have been a rather hilarious sight to behold if Malfoy wasn't gripped with horror at what his headmaster was about to do to them.

Several things happened in quick succession at this point. Snape was still running around and Dumbledore seemed to have drawn his wand, getting ready to mutter an incantation. Malfoy, sensing danger, clasped Harry hard around his arm, clicked his heels and somersaulted. He caught a fleeting glimpse of the headmaster waving his wand – the spell missing them by inches and hitting a bemused Snape instead, before Malfoy tumbled onto the floor in the Dumbledore's office.

It took a moment for him to realize that Harry had landed right on top of him and further, was making no effort whatsoever to move. Malfoy took great pleasure in slapping the boy-who-slumped, around the face. A faint memory of slap received in the third year of his school life echoed distantly in his mind.

"Get up you useless gargoyle, Potter. We need to get out of here!"

Malfoy heaved at Harry again until Harry's eyes fluttered open.

"Need… get… Ron… Herm…" Harry managed to gasp before completely passing out on a horrified and repulsed Malfoy, again.

"Bloody Hell!" exclaimed Malfoy.

Just then, Dumbledore appeared.

"Boys –" he began – but he was too late. Malfoy had already clicked his fingers and somersaulted counter-clockwise, opening a portal to another place.

"_NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO o o_

_O O_

_O_

_O _

_o o O_

_o ! o O_

_!!! o O_

_O . _o

o_ O_

_o O o o_

OooooooooOOOoooooooooooooooo……..!!"

screamed Prof. Dumbledore, his voice growing small and squeaky as the boys hurtled through a dark green vortex with silver stars.

* * * * *

The first thing Harry noticed when he woke up was that his head was still spinning. The SECOND thing he noticed was that the whole world was in black and white!!

"Aye Caramba!" he yelled.

"Whaa -?" burbled Malfoy, sitting up. "What's going on?"

"You _Ninny!_" screamed Harry. "WTF have you done!?"

"I haven't done any – BY THE BALLS OF THOR! What happened to all the color?!"

"YOU tell ME!

Malfoy slapped his hand to his forehead.

"Shit. The somersault."

"Somersault?" said Harry, his eyes suddenly widened to the size of saucers. "Oh. My. God. Tell me you somersaulted right!!"

"Anti-clockwise!!" sobbed Malfoy. "I somersaulted anti-clockwise!!"

Just as Harry picked up a nearby hammer and attempted to shatter his knee-caps, a voice called out.

"Ahoy there, what in Merlin's saggy Y-fronts do you think you are doing? Don't tell me you two sorry arses are responsible for the entire blooming universe going back into a 60s TV screen!"

A young man with unruly blonde locks flying in the wind came tumbling down the hill. He had an infectious laugh and a smile on his face as he turned back to call over his shoulder.

"Hey Chaton, see what the time vortex dragged in."

Malfoy's and Harry's jaws dropped open as they saw another young boy with long auburn hair and a definite 'twinkle' in his eye – come loping down. Harry noted that his nose was still intact and that his customary half-moon glasses were still round, but it was still unmistakably his headmaster – Prof Dumbledore. He had just witnessed his headmaster being fondly referred to as a CAT! Harry guessed the memory would haunt him till the day he hit the grave.

Harry's brain was working furiously, trying to put a name to the blonde boy's face. He knew he had seen that face somewhere…

"Gods. That's Grindlewald," muttered Malfoy under his breath.

Harry sneaked a peak at Malfoy and saw that the he was about to faint again. Hurriedly catching Malfoy by the backs of his robes to steady him proved to be a mistake, as Harry momentarily experiencing a heady rush of blood to his nether regions as his palm came into contact with smooth, toned, muscle. Breathing deeply the boy-who-lived-through-worse tried to focus on the two young men in front of them.

There was a manic gleam in Grindelwald's eyes as he trilled excitedly…

"Oh my Chaton, these two are perfect for our experiment! All that delicious tension coming off them…" – Malfoy half expected Grindelwald to start clapping his hands in joy.

"Yes, yes, my love. For the greater good – and the blonde one does a wonderful pouty-red-lippy thing too…"

Dumbledore smiled winningly at Malfoy.

Draco shuddered at the look his headmaster was giving him and unwittingly drew closer to Harry. He felt Harry's breath hitch, but had no time to ponder this rather interesting factor as they were about to become guinea pigs for two deranged wizards who wore makeup.

* * * * * * *

Hermione was going spare. She had no idea where Harry had got to, and to top it all off, she had seen someone who looked suspiciously like Ron slip into the girl's bathroom.

_"Oh, something is not right,  
Something is quite wrong,  
Something is not right,  
That's why I sing this song…"_

She was rounding the corner at the speed of a bat out of hell when she bumped into the most unlikely person imaginable.

"Oooomph!"

"Omg, Prof, Dumbledore, I'm so sorry!" squealed Hermione in distress.

"Oh, he he, that's quite alright my dear. Pray though, have you happened to see where Mr. Potter and Mr. Malfoy have got to? I can't seem to find them anywhere."

Hermione looked at the Headmaster and for a moment, she thought she saw his eyes gleam brightly.

"Eer... why are you wearing those shiny false eyelashes, Professor?" she asked.

"I traveled back in time to the 70s," he said. "These were all the rage back then."

Hermione allowed an awkward silence to settle between them like a bad case of flatulence.

"Umm… right. ANYWAY, Professor, where ARE Harry and Ron?"

Of course this was the very same question he himself had asked Hermione, not 10 mins ago. (Not that he already didn't know the answer) but he was hoping the young teen had already forgotten in light of the distraction his eyelashes had so unwittingly provided.

"Harry's gallivanting through the 1920s in monochrome. As for Weasley..."

He trailed off and cast an uncomfortable glance at the girl's toilet.

"Professor, didn't you just say you were looking for Harry and Malfoy?" interrupted Hermione with a slightly puzzled look on her face. "Is anything the matter, professor? Is it –"

Dumbledore nodded his expression grim. "Indeed my dear, IT."

Hermione gasped. "In that case professor, we need to hurry! The wallabies have already begun! Come now, quickly -!"

* * * * * * *

Back in the 20s Harry and Draco were fruitlessly trying to worm their way out of the chains that bound them.

"You freak, Potter! You _had_ to try and hex away Dumbledore's shiny, hippy eyelashes, didn't you?" Malfoy was seething. "Do you know that I'm gong to scar!"

There was a distinct whine to Malfoy's tone now, and despite the predicament Harry was in, he found himself biting down an indulgent smile. It was just like Malfoy to worry about his looks even when they were dangling 10 feet above a cauldron full of shocking pink potion.

"Get me out of here, Potter. Pleeeease… I'll do anything…"

Malfoy hated himself for wheedling and the blatant groveling that he was doing, but honestly, anything was fine so long as it did not leave bruises on his delicate skin. If it also meant that they got to escape being turned into trolls in shocking pink tutus, Malfoy would consider it a bonus.

"They took our wands, Malfoy," sighed Harry. "I don't see _you_ coming up with any ideas – bright or otherwise."

"Hmpf!" Malfoys are not supposed to engage in petty exercises like coming up with ideas. If we want something, we always get it."

"Yes, well, that's not going to help much now, is it." snarled Harry, his benevolent feelings disappearing fast, leaving behind a great urge to kick the aristocratic snob where it hurt.

Malfoy opened his mouth to retaliate, not being the one to step down from a good argument.

Soon the two boys were squabbling so loudly they never noticed a figure slip silently into the room…

"Harry Potter!'

Harry and Draco ceased attempting to kick each other in mid air and turned to peer down at the being that had so rudely interrupted their diatribe. Harry froze.

"Dobby?!!"

"Harry Potter!" squealed Dobby, gazing adoringly at his favorite person in the whole wide world.

Malfoy watched the subtle exchange between them curiously. Harry was definitely disturbed by Dobby's presence. However, he realized that the magical midget was their only hope for survival. Suppressing whatever little dignity he had left in the soles of his feet, Harry cleared his throat.

"Dobby," he said. "Help."

"Oh, Harry Potter!" squeaked Dobby. "You is looking beautiful!"

"Err…" said Harry, coloring.

"And you is wearing matching socks! Finally!!"

Harry and Malfoy looked down at Harry's feet.

"Damn!" he said. It appeared that he had accidentally donned one of Ron's luminous orange socks. It clashed horribly with his other; a violent and lurid green.

"Dobby," he said again, "help!"

"Dobby will do anything for his love! You is waiting for me, Harry Potter!"

Harry pretended not to notice the aghast expression on Malfoy's face.

"Yes, Dobby. I'll be waiting."

"Y- Y- You?! And _HIM?!!"_ ejaculated Malfoy, incredulously.

"Shut up."

"Oh. My. God."

"I said: Shut Up."

"Well, normally I would use this scandalous information to humiliate and torment you. But I really can't complain – I mean, it IS going to save us."

"Thank you," breathed Harry, relieved.

"- But just think, Dobby walks in after a hard day's work in the kitchens, and when he by chance glances heavenwards, he sees the object of his lust and affection dangling like –"

"- Like a hangman on a noose –"

"- A heart on a string, illuminated by the romantic glow of this simmering potion-"

"I get it, Malfoy," interrupted Harry irritably.

"Oh, alright. Just so that you know."

Malfoy then grinned widely and deviously. Just then…

**ONWARD TO THE FINAL CHAPTER!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Harry Potter and the curious case of his sexual preferences**

**Disclaimer : **Please don't sue us we only own this plot. Or lack thereof.

**Summary: **Harry Potter does NOT love Draco Malfoy. Yes he does. No he doesn't. Yes he does! And why does Ron have tits? These mysteries and many others are answered in this thrilling tale of romance and insanity.

*******

Chapter Four

**Harry Potter and the Horrific Abuse of Adjectives**

*******

**The story so far - **

Harry and Draco are imprisoned by Grindelwald and Dumbledore and are forced to dangle above a noxious, bubbling pink potion! Then, just as they are about to give up hope…

They heard the ominous 'pop' of someone apparating. Dobby gave a high pitched screamed that nearly tore Harry's and Draco's eardrums and disappeared into thin air.

"No! Dobby, wait!"

Harry's anguished yell was cut short as he heard Malfoy start to scream.

_"AAIIIIEEEEEE!! NOOOOooooo!!!"_

Harry looked around hurriedly. Malfoy was screwing his eyes shut as if sometyhing were burning them.

"What, Malfoy? What's wrong?! What happened to your precious eyes?!"

Harry was frantic. Those beautiful, beautiful eyes!

"Oh God, I don't think I'll survive this. The _scars! _Professor, how could you?!" whimpered Malfoy in abject horror.

"Mr. Malfoy, can we calm down a minute please…"

It was only then that Harry realized they weren't alone. He looked down.

_"AAAAAAIIIIEEEEEEE!!"_

Snape sighed in resignation. It was a pity those two were such sworn enemies. For two people who were apparently so different they sounded surprisingly alike in most situations.

"Potter, shut up!!"

Harry sputtered to a halt.

"H- Harry… is this the 'IT' Dumbledore was talking about?" asked Malfoy fearfully.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry saw that Malfoy's eyes were still screwed shut and that he was shaking like a leaf on the Whomping Willow.

"Mr. Malfoy," gritted a much put-out Prof. Snape. "I suggest you get over yourself. Gods man, it's just a little makeup. It was all the rage in the 70s."

With that Prof Snape gave an experimental flick to his greasy, unwashed hair, which immediately flopped back onto his left cheek like a dead thing.

This was taken as the cue for Harry and Malfoy to start screaming again, and they proceeded to do it with much gusto. Snape, who was already on a very short and tired fuse – given the fact that he didn't remember how he got to be here in the first place (All he knew was, he had to somehow save boy wonder and his side kick) – felt that this was the absolute limit.

"Shut the bloody hell up you brainless twits! You're giving me a headache!"

The boys chose to ignore this admissive and rather happily continued in the activity of screaming their throats raw.

"That's IT!"

With a flick of his wand the much tried and troubled Professor, sent the two yowling boys hurtling into the fluorescent concoction below.

* * * * * * *

"Is it time, my love?" asked Prof Dumbledore, twirling one of Grindelwald's curls around his forefinger.

"No, not yet. I can still make out the color of that tapestry over there."

Dumbledore sighed. "I wish we weren't still in monochrome. Your hair isn't all sunshine and golden ringlets anymore."

"Have patience my love- bun," said Grindelwald. "And anyway, we're not in monochrome, we're in SEPIA!"

Dumbledore pouted cutely.

"But _STILL!" _He complained, "how come those BOYS get to be in full color _and_ in the vicinity of a gloriously pink potion!? It's not fair!"

"Patience, lovely snuggy- wug. Everything's going according to plan!"

"You _are_ so very fiendishly clever," sighed Dumbledore rapturously.

"That I am – just think, soon we'll have sucked all the color from the planet and when chaos thus reigns supreme –"

"The world will look to us for help!"

"Exactly!"

"We'll rule the world! BWAHAHA!"

"And the best part Is no one will _ever_ guess they're hidden in our deepest, darkest dungeon!"

_"BUWA HA HA HA!"_

_"BWA HAH –HA!"_

The two criminal masterminds cackled manically, so engrossed in the evilness in their plans that they never noticed 3 violently pink figures slipping out of the dungeon and into the darkness beyond.

* * * * * * *

Snape was trying very hard not to listen to the two fluorescently pink boys squabbling. Apart from the fact that all the pink was making him nauseous, he now had to contend with the fact that they were completely lost. The Gods up there must be having a field day on his account, Snape thought bitterly, cursing the day he decided to take Prof Flitwick's advice and drink himself stupid.

"%^$(0!2)! Bloody Potter!" Snape snarled, sorely wanting to dock the boy in the head.

Harry, on the other hand, had bigger things to worry about; the shocking pink potion had doused them completely from head to foot, making Malfoy, of all people, emit a glowing aura of rose petal pink around him. His cheeks were flushed, slate eyes wide, his mouth… oh God his mouth – Harry's brain just about short circuited on that train of thought and he had to close his eyes to physically wanting to grab the other boy and slam him into a wall nearby – and not necessarily to beat him senseless either.

"Stop it!" Harry berated himself. "Don't think about Malfoy, you hate him, remember. Think about green cheese or Dudley in leather pants and fishnet stockings."

"Potter!" Harry heard Malfoy's commanding voice cut into his thoughts. "Are you even _listening_ to a word I'm saying you bloody nitwit?! You and your stupid plans! Stupid boy wonder. Look at me! Just _look at me!!_"

Malfoy was so distraught, he was completely unaware of the fact that this was exactly what Harry was trying not to do. Harry contemplated shutting his ears and singing nursery rhymes, but figured that wouldn't get him anywhere. Instead, he did the next thing that popped into his head.

Grabbing Malfoy by the scruff of his collar the darker boy slammed him against the wall. Harry noted the wild eyed expression Malfoy wore a second before he slammed his lips against the now terrified boy. Malfoy's mouth was soft and it took all of Harry's restraint to stop him from biting Malfoy's lip until he tasted blood. Instead, he licked his way thoroughly around the now pliant lips and slipped his tongues inside for a taste. Harry could feel his brain short- circuiting and was only dimly aware of the sounds Malfoy was making in return. Harry pushed in closer and bought his hand up to Malfoy's head to angle so he could have better access to that wonderfully sweet mouth.

Harry and Malfoy were both panting heavily still kissing desperately. Malfoy experienced a moment of horror when he found himself thinking that this was better than being hooked on drugs. He was actually _begging_ Potter to keep kissing him! He pushed any disturbing questions about his manhood aside and wrapped himself more securely around the boy- wonder, completely loosing himself to the moment.

Snape stared. Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse THIS had to happen. It hardly registered to his already distraught brain that he had started to scream and run in circles – again - when an almighty **BANG!** Shook the entire cave.

_"NNNNOOOOOOooooooooooooo………...!!"_

Grindelwald's and Dumbledore's screams mingled and resonated through the darkness in a dreadful cacophony of despair.

Grindelwald – because he realized – as he spotted the two boys who had apparated into the room still locked in passionate embrace – that the potion was now useless, and the powers that bound the two enemies were longer effective. The plan had failed! It was quite obvious that the boys were further away from being enemies than Ernie and Bert. Grindelwald bashed his head against the wall – repeatedly. You could trust no one these days…

Dumbledore was experiencing similar despair. But only because he was acutely experiencing the loss of a future pouty- red- lipped potential boy-toy. The world was _beyond_ unfair indeed! Dumbledore stared at Harry and Draco for a while and turned to look and Grindelwald with a resigned sigh and knowing grin…

Still flustered, Harry and Draco both stared down at the two men below. Both boys were avoiding each other's gaze. Harry felt like he wanted to burst into hysterical laughter and scream with terror at the same time. Draco started playing with his fingers, already breaking out into sweat.

"Ahem… right then, my lads. Let's get the two of you sorted out shall we?" said Dumbledore, with that rather suspicious 'twinkle' back in his eyes.

With a flick of his wand he restored the still hot pink potion that covered Harry and Draco and returned them back to their normal color. (In Draco's case gecko white!) It was then that the Boy-who-lived noticed that Snape was missing again.

"Uhh, sir…" mumbled Harry. Amazed at the fact that he still had the ability to speak after what had just happened between him and Draco. "Prof – Professor Snape… still- umm… cave… lost…"

"Oh my, yes. I was trying to locate him, but my dear Grindelwald and I were a little – ahem, occupied," said Dumbledore, looking rather sheepish and smiling shiftily at Grindelwald.

"What are we waiting for, Chaton. Let's go find him,"

It was obvious that Grindelwald was trying to drag Dumbledore away so that the two boys could have some privacy. Malfoy felt himself go pink around the ears… Gods, this was sooo embarrassing!

"Ahh… right. Yes of course. We shall be back. Make yourselves comfortable, boys." Dumbledore winked at the two lads. He couldn't help sighing at the loss of his favorite pupil though… alas.

Before Harry could turn around and say anything to Draco, there was a loud 'THUD!' Harry turned around to see Draco flat on his back, his arms and legs spread out like an angel and his eyes bulging with terror. He was mumbling something and the picture it made Harry think of an albino Goldfish. Harry had to stifle a slightly hysterical giggle behind his hand. It definitely wouldn't do to laugh at Malfoy now.

Harry knelt down in front of Draco trying to get the boy to respond.

"Oh good grief! He's in shock. What the bloody hell?! Draco! Are you alright?"

Harry felt hysteria bubbling up in him again, and slapped Draco's face – hard. After what felt like a year of staring into a black hole of confusion, Draco's eyes slowly blinked up at Harry.

Draco had the feeling on drowning in deep pools of green. And for the first time in years felt an unfamiliar flutter deep in the pit of his stomach.

Harry almost cried with relief. "Are you alright?"

Draco wondered why Harry was whispering. But the boy-who-laughed-in-the-face-of-Voldermort was afraid that if he spoke too loudly it would send Draco into another fit of madness.

Draco gulped and reached for Harry's outstretched hand to sit up. Harry felt an electric shock run up from his fingers, where they were holding onto Draco's slim hand. Sensing Harry shiver, Draco held on tighter and brought his free hand up to stroke Harry's cheek.

"Potter. You... me... I… never..." Muttered Draco, still running his hand over Harry's cheek.

The tension between the two boys was palpable.

"But… can we still…?" asked Harry, looking down. "I- it's been a long time coming. You feel it too… don't you?"

Draco heard Harry's voice tremble. He at once bought a hand to lift Harry's chin up and looked strait into his eyes. He wanted Harry to see the fire and desire that was burning within him. Harry had to know that Draco wanted this as much as he did.

Gripped by what Harry saw in his once – nemesis' eyes, he pushed the other boy slowly to the ground and started caressing every inch of Draco's body with slow, sure determination. Draco lost himself in the pleasure of Harry's hands and lips. Amidst his moans of pleasure, Draco retained just enough sense to fumble for his want and cry 'Aerosensuo'.

They lifted up in the air. Their nakedness keeping them warm, and their cloaks shielding them from the prying eyes of the dark.

** ** ** ** ** ** **

**THE END**

**____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________**

**NOTES**

Phew. That was clearly disturbing. And in case you gentle readers were wondering what the heck happened to the plot, I'd like to take the time to tell you not to think about it anymore. The plot in this story is more or less incoherent. The IMPORTANT thing is, though, that we terrified you.

Who wants an epilogue?


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

In which some things are explained

An almost-but-not-quite-introduction

*******

Greetings, all!

I just want to tell you a bit about the motivation that drove Suds and I to write this story.

You see, it all began one boring Tuesday (or Thursday?) afternoon and we were at lectures and bored out of our minds. This provoked a discussion as to the sexual preferences of the hero of this tale, Harry Potter. Suds was convinced that Harry and Draco secretly lusted after each other, and that the sexual tension between them was a clear theme running throughout all seven books. I, on the other hand, disagreed. Harry and Draco, in my mind, are as straight as… lamps.

This story was the result of Sud's provocation of my moral centre, and is only meant to be taken seriously if your middle name is Ernest.

In the world of fan fiction, there are no boundaries when it comes to romance. I bet there are even Snape/Hagrid fics out there - heaven forbid I should ever come across one. It is for this reason that, in this particular fic at least, Harry Potter is an absolute slut and even conjugates with Dobby the house elf.

This is clearly the most disgusting parody you've ever encountered, red-rose-petal-lippy-things and _all._

I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as we did ignoring our lectures.

_Yorik_

_

* * *

_

**NOTICE**

If anyone would like to collaborate on a story of the daftest nature, do not hesitate to contact us via a review.


End file.
